“I didna mean aught by it,” his brogue carried on the wind to Caragh.
“Didn’t mean aught by it? Then why the hell did you do it? Why did you insult her?”
Caragh saw the men turn as a one to look at the man she deduced must be Skinny. The murmurs began as they tried to determine what transgression he must have committed.
“Speak before I cut out your tongue,” Rowan’s quiet voice hushed the crowd. Clearly, they knew what she had already suspected. His soft tones belied menace that would rival the wrath of God.
“I left her tray on the floor instead of handing it to her.”
“You couldn’t be bothered to speak to her or hand her the tray. You left it for her like you would a meal for a dog. You slighted her, and you will pay recompense now.”
“But Captain, everyone kens it’s bad luck to have a lass aboard. I dinna want that bad luck to latch onto me. I figured if I didna lay eyes on the lass, I would be safe.”
Rowan’s laugh caused chills to skid down Caragh’s back. She was witnessing the pirate who entered the cave intending to ransack it. This was not the man with whom she shared a bed and made love. She recognized their time together for what it was. She was falling in love with him despite how ridiculous she knew that to be.
“Bad luck seems to have found you, anyway. Caragh!” Rowan’s voice bellowed into the night air. “I know you’re there, so stop lurking and come over here.”
Caragh swallowed before setting her shoulders back and lifting her chin. She walked across the deck just as she did when she arrived at the tavern prepared to enter into negotiations. She swept a glance over the crew and took in the varying levels of filth and decay, but she noticed the weapons they all wore more than she noticed anything else. She was glad she had strapped on her belt, which held three knives, along with the knives she had in each boot. She knew Rowan would protect her, but she felt better having them nonetheless.
“Mo chridhe,” My heart. Caragh tried not to react to the unexpected term of endearment. She would ask later if it was only for show. For now, she pretended it did not surprise her. “This man has something he would like to say to you.”
Caragh stepped forward. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name, Skinny.” She would have her ounce of flesh too. She had been given one opportunity each day to converse with the outside world, and this man had stolen it from her out of fear. He would know fear now, if not by Rowan’s hand, then by her words. “I was beginning to suspect the fae inhabited the ship or perhaps a kelpie slipped aboard twice a day to deliver ma meals, since I never saw anyone when I opened the door. The tray appeared and disappeared as though it were magic.”
Caragh watched the superstitious man twitch as she mentioned the shape shifting water spirit Scottish children were warned about. Her accent mimicked her mother’s; a brogue suddenly appearing to replace her English accent.
“Och aye, ma mama is a Highlander, and she warned me aboot the evils of the kelpies. They shift and take on the shape of aught they see. Why any one of the men aboard could be the kelpie.” She inched closer, and Skinny tried to retreat, but Rowan held him tight. “Perhaps I shouldnae have feared a kelpie after all.”
Caragh stepped back and once again swept her gaze across the crew, letting it linger on the oldest members. “Mayhap it’s a bodach at work.” She let the term for the boogeyman roll off her tongue with her exaggerated burr. “Ma mama tried to reassure me that a bodach is just a grumpy auld mon, perhaps such as yerself, but I ken differently.”
Caragh swept her arm out wide even though her gaze did not waver from Skinny’s trembling lips.
“Dinna we all ken differently?” She tilted her head toward the crew as many nodded their agreement. “I’m but one lass tucked away, seeing and hearing nay one, but ye believe I am what’s to be feared? Psh, I say there is far more that lurks above deck than below. I’m probably the safest one of the lot of ye.”
Rowan struggled to keep a straight face, just as many of his crew did. A few of the more superstitious ones did not find any humor in what she said, but those who did not believe the stories told to children to scare them into behaving laughed silently.
“Right, I believe the captain said ye wanted to tell me something.” She tilted her head as if genuinely perplexed by what he might say.
“I be beggin’ yer forgiveness, lass.” When Rowan shook him, Skinny cleared his throat, “Ma lady.”
“Those aren’t quite the words I want Caragh to hear,” Rowan growled.
Skinny grimaced but took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Rowan released him. Skinny wobbled and lost his balance, landing hard on the deck. Caragh stepped forward and reached out a hand. Skinny looked at her as though she was an apparition, even though he had just listened to her speak. Rowan growled, and Skinny reached up to take her hand. Already braced for his weight, Caragh tugged and pulled him off the planks enough for him to get his feet beneath him. She stepped close and slapped him on the back.
“Nothing to worry about, mate. I was just teasing you anyway,” with her regular accent back in place, she grinned.
Whispers abounded as the men stared at her. She looked to Rowan, and he shrugged and then nodded.
“My mother is a MacLeod.” She paused to see how they would respond. When nothing outlandish occurred, she added, “of Lewis,” for good measure. This stirred the reaction she expected.
“Bluidy bleeding hell, Captain! You stole a MacLeod! How have the hounds of hell not descended upon us yet?” shouted one of the men.
“I’m only half MacLeod, but it explains my smuggler’s nature.” She grinned and winked at Rowan.
“Enough,” he stepped next to her and pinched her backside. She made no outward response, but Rowan was sure he would pay for it later. He wanted that later to be sooner. “You have seen she is but a slip of a lass, and not a threat to anyone. However, I will be if I hear any of you disrespect her again. I am not known to be forgiving once, let alone twice.”
Rowan wrapped his arm around Caragh’s waist and pulled her toward the ladder well, but before they got very far, she danced away from his reach and spun around. She sprinted back to a stack of crates and hopped from one to another until she could reach a jug she spied. She scrambled down, but before her feet touched the ground, two large hands wrapped around her waist and lowered her to the deck.
“Impressive,” the gruff voice rumbled in her ear, but she heard just a touch of mirth and prayed it would be enough to keep her backside from burning for yet another night.
“My gram says a dram or two keeps the blood pumping.”
“Why don’t we return to our cabin and you can enlighten me with more of your grandmother’s sayings.”
They walked away to the hoots and hollers of the crew.
Chapter 8
Caragh entered the cabin first, and a moment’s trepidation passed over her as she worried Rowan would not have found her joke as humorous as the others did, nor would he find her antics to get the jug as funny as she did. When the door clicked behind her, she did not turn around. She did not have long to wait before the same two large hands once again gripped her waist.
“Thank you, Caragh.”
She gasped. Those were not the words she expected. She spun around, but before she could speak, he rested his finger against her lips. “You could not know this, but you saved that man’s life tonight. I knew you followed me, and that knowledge was the only thing that kept me from killing him. I didn’t want you to think of me as a monster or fear me.”
“Rowan, I do think you were a bit angrier than the situation necessitated, but you swore to protect me, and I know that’s what you believed you were doing. You’re not angry at me for poking fun at your man?”
“He deserved far more than he got. If he’d pished his pants in front of everyone, as I suspect he nearly did when you mentioned a kelpie, he would have gotten what he deserved. I’m more bot
hered at your recklessness scaling those crates in the dark.”
“But I caught the scent of whisky, and I knew it would be a perfect nightcap after being in the chilly air.”
“Are you a secret drunkard? You know very well that you have me to keep you warm.”
“Can’t I have both?” she grinned.
“You certainly can,” Rowan said as he took the jug from her hand and placed it on the table before pulling her in for a long kiss. The whisky was forgotten as easily as it was found.
Caragh awoke to Rowan slipping back into the cabin with a tray of food heaped high enough to feed five men. She sat up as he placed the tray beside her and joined her on the bed.
“No more eating alone. I didn’t apologize last night, but I am as guilty as Skinny. I shouldn’t have left you alone assuming one of my men would keep you company, even if only for a few minutes a couple times a day.”
“I know you didn’t mean any harm. You’re not exactly used to hosting guests.”
Rowan nodded as he bit into his eggs, but he tasted nothing as he realized Caragh thought of herself as a guest. This was better than thinking of herself as a prisoner or captive, but he thought of her as much more. The cabin felt more comfortable and more welcoming with her in it. He had something, or rather someone, to look forward to each night when he retired. He left the wheel in the hands of his first mate, and he could return to Caragh and forget about his duties for a while. In his mind, she had become as permanent as any of his crew. Guests left. Guests returned home.
“Rowan, what’s wrong?” He looked down at her small hand resting on his wrist.
“Nothing really. We’re approaching the coast of Spain, so I must be more vigilant.”
Caragh knew that was not the truth, but she did not push. They ate their breakfast in silence, Rowan polishing off the overabundance of food much to Caragh’s entertainment. Rowan invited her above deck, where she spent the morning looking out at the horizon. They ate with the crew for the midday meal, and then Caragh returned to the cabin when the sun was at its zenith and beat down on the deck.
This became their new routine for the next fortnight. Caragh had free roam of the deck, but she tended to find a spot near the prow, finding the ocean spray refreshing as she watched the fish swim alongside the hull. Periodically, she would spot a pod of dolphins. But the more freedom she gained, and the longer she looked at the open water, the more she longed to return home. She only wanted to be sure her family was safe. She needed to be sure the families of the men who died that night in the cave were provided for. She was homesick.
Rowan watched Caragh retreat further into herself each day. He nearly regretted allowing her the chance to come above deck, but he did not want her to think she was a captive. It was bad enough she still referred to herself vaguely as a guest. He was keenly aware of where she was at every moment despite his focus being on navigating and commanding his ship.
“Capt’n? Capt’n?” He looked to his first mate, Keith. Perhaps he was not as focused as he believed. “You didn’t hear me, did you? Lost in thought again?”
When Rowan looked at Keith, he saw Keith was looking at Caragh rather than him. He bristled until his first mate grinned. “Don’t get your hackles up. I’m not interested. You noticed she’s changing, don’t you?”
“I can’t help but notice,” Rowan admitted.
“She still smiles, but the spunk she showed that night on deck seems to have fizzled.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”
“Rowan,” Keith never called him by his first name in public. He dropped his voice, but Rowan knew his friend was serious if he dared speak so brazenly. “You need to take her home.”
Rowan balked and jerked away as if slapped.
“Hear me out. She’s wasting away worrying about her family. You know that’s what it is. You know just like the rest of us that she was their leader. She knows she’s responsible for those people, and I’m sure guilt at not being there is eating at her. It would do that to you or me if we were in her position. You have to take her home. Let her see all is well or help her fix it if we are the reason things aren’t well. Then let her choose. I believe she’ll come back with you.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Keith shook his head but kept quiet. Rowan stepped away from the wheel and was ready to make his way to Caragh when he saw her lean forward and shade her eyes from the sun. She spun around and raced to the center mast. She was climbing the rigging like a squirrel before Rowan could grasp what was happening. She was fast and nimble, and was in the crow’s nest before he could reach her. Rowan stood with his hands braced on his hips, prepared to bark orders for her to stop messing about and to come down when her loud whistle rent the air. It was a common trill that any experienced sailor knew was a warning of an impending attack.
“Captain, to the starboard side. Two Spanish carracks that I can see, but I believe there’s another set of masts hidden by the low clouds. They’re just before the horizon. Three leagues and traveling toward us.”
Rowan looked up at Caragh once more, and while he was angry that she risked climbing the rigging, he had to admit it was obvious she was experienced. And if they were about to go into battle, he wanted her high and out of sight. She would be safer there if they were boarded. He just hoped no cannon fire landed near the mast.
He barked orders as the crew raised their sails that showed they sailed under the marque of the Earl of Argyll. Anyone who knew Rowan knew his ties to the Earl were loose. He paid fealty to the man twice a year, and in return, the earl turned a blind eye to anything else Rowan captured.
If it were only one boat, he would have ordered the black sails raised and prepared the men to storm the ship, but he knew they were outnumbered. He willed the cloud cover to shift to cloak them as the boats approached one another.
Chapter 9
The next hour passed slowly as the crew made few movements. Caragh called down as quietly as she could, knowing her voice would carry. Rowan manned the helm and steered them further into the descending fog. At Caragh’s last update, Rowan had the sails lowered as they held their collective breath. A vague outline of a ship passed by them, but it was too hard to make out any details. Rowan prayed the ships would pass by them none the wiser to their location. When the hulking forms of the carracks could no longer be seen, everyone breathed easier, but they remained vigilant and silent for another hour. They did not want their sounds to alert the Spaniards and intrigue them enough to turn around.
When Rowan was sure they were safe, he stood at the bottom of the mast and looked up to the crow’s nest. His hands were back on his hips, and a scowl bore deep grooves around his mouth. It only deepened when Caragh peered down, grinned, and waved. All of Rowan’s pent-up fear that Caragh would be caught in the middle of a sea battle came pouring out.
“Get down here! Now!”
Caragh frowned at him but stepped out of the nest. She made her way down the rigging until she was low enough for Rowan to reach up and pluck her from the netting. He swung her over his shoulder and marched to their cabin. He did not say a word until they entered, and he kicked the door shut. Caragh cast a wary glance once he set her on her feet. She suspected he would be angry when she returned to the deck, but she had not anticipated this level of fury.
Rowan pulled the belt from his waist and wrapped the buckled end around his fist.
“Lower your leggings, Caragh.”
She shook her head and backed up until she was pressed against the far wall. She raised her hands as if they would block his approach.
“Lower them. This is your last chance before I add to your punishment for disobedience.”
“Rowan, no. You swore you would never strike me in anger.”
“I am not angry, mo ghràidh. I am past that.”
“But aren’t you relieved nothing happened?” She tried to plaster a smile on her face and recover the excitement she felt earlier. “It was as
if we were a ghost ship that lurked among the clouds. They didn’t spot us.”
Caragh watched the pulse tick in Rowan’s temple and realized her exuberance was only making him more upset. “I told you not to keep me waiting, and you have.” He took her hand and led her to the chair she both loved and dreaded. He was not rough or impatient with her, and that made her worry even more. The calm menace frightened her. “Do you know why you are to be punished?”
Caragh slowly shook her head. She truly did not know what angered him.
“Did I not warn you about taking needless risks? That I would protect you from yourself if need be?”
She nodded her head but stayed silent.
“And just what do you think you did climbing up that mast?”
“I’ve done such hundreds of times. You brought me abroad as your cabin boy. You expected me to do that.”
“You know bluidy well that was before I knew you were a woman. And I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. You are aboard my ship and will follow my rules.”
“But Rowan--”
He cut her off when he grabbed the waistband and dragged the leggings to her knees.
“You will come willingly and bend over my knee. You will count each one, and then you will thank me for caring enough to dole this punishment out.”
Caragh shook her head and tried to back away, but her legs were tangled within the fabric that clung to her knees.
“You just added two more to your tally. Do you intend to add more?”
Caragh approached slowly. When she peered into Rowan’s eyes, she saw fear for the first time. She had frightened him by scaling the mast without warning, coupled with his worry that she might be caught in the midst of a battle. She felt guilty for making him worry. She recognized his fear existed because he cared. If he did not, it would have been easier for him to ignore her. Instead, he was trying to show his concern through the only way he seemed to know how. She stepped up to him and cupped his jaw before placing a light kiss against his lips.
Pirates, Passion and Plunder Page 32